


Dashed Expectations

by TiredRazzberry



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7790962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredRazzberry/pseuds/TiredRazzberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a dark period where Cat thought she had utterly and completely misjudged her children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dashed Expectations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Veridissima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veridissima/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.

There had been a dark period where Catelyn had honestly believed that she had utterly and completely misread her own children and that she had been entirely wrong about what their futures would entail. Robb was in university. Sansa and Arya were in high school, with Sansa eager to leave it. Bran was not far from slotting in after her. Her little Rickon wasn't so little anymore. His favorite toys sat forgotten in their bins for weeks on end, as sports television and his brothers' video games kept him glued to the living room floor most afternoons. They were all so different at these stages in their life from what Catelyn had imagined just a few years earlier. 

Cat liked to think of herself as observant, she _was_ observant, and observing Robb in his senior year of high school, she had assumed that his university years would be pretty tame compared to her own. More like Ned's, really. Which was probably for the best considering her..."misadventures". Camped out in random aisles of the library, hunched over a desk in his dorm room so late into the night that there was no point in going to bed before class, and weekends playing intramural soccer and ultimate Frisbee with a bunch frat-boy friends who'd drag him out for a drink every once in awhile. Obstinately for his mental health. Yes, just like Ned's university years. That sat well with Cat. 

Sansa had been popular in middle school. She had good friends in Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel, and was friendly with almost everyone. She _knew_ everyone, too, as she played volleyball in the autumn, softball in the spring, and cheered year-round, all while being heavily involved in her school's music program. A careful balancing act that Cat expected to only grow harder as she went through high school and picked up more and more activities. But all her hard work would be rewarded by the friends she'd meet and the valuable life experiences she would gain. She would be a model student. Oh, how impressed perspective colleges would be by her laundry list of credentials!

Though Sansa and her friends liked to tease that Arya would turn into some morbid goth chick in high school, Cat knew her younger daughter to be as outgoing and friendly as her big sister. Really, it all came easier to Arya. Making friends, trying new things. The thing about Arya was that it manifested in more unconventional ways. In elementary school, Arya was friends with all the boys and the unofficial mascot of Robb and Jon's motley crew. Girls her own age didn't like how she roughhoused, and they almost never watched the same cartoons or played with the same toys as her. It was a different time. The line between boys and girls, blue and pink, was much thicker and heavily guarded. Those girls may have been terrible, but the little boys loved the novelty of a girl who knew as much about sports as them, and Dacey, Ygritte, and Sam were always encouraging Arya to go on being herself. "You don't have to change, because one day everything else will." Cat had once overheard Samwell whisper to her little girl, and she had smiled approvingly and invited him to stay for dinner; Jon had been thrown by that, to say the least. Cat didn't think Arya would ever change. Most of those girls who disparaged her in fifth grade would one day realize their own internalized misogyny. Everyone else would change, but not Arya. 

Bran's life was going to difficult. That had been apparent since the moment the doctors had informed her and Ned of the seriousness of her injuries. He had very suddenly been robbed of his ability to be himself. He couldn't be energetic, mischievous, daring Bran anymore. So he had to become someone else. Quieter, somber like his father, and sometimes angry. Often, in truth. But, oh, how his mind came to shine! Cat was in awe of her son. His excellent grades weren't the least of it. Somewhere down the line, he became the one that everyone in the house went to for advice. He was so observant. Bran seemed to appreciate the newfound aspects of himself, and thanks to them he found friends in Meera and Jojan Reed. They were older, and if things had been different Cat might have been concerned, but children his own age didn't really suit Bran anymore. Bran's life was going to be difficult, but he was going to make the most of it, Cat was sure. 

Rickon was a wild little thing. Hyperactive, demanding, and oh so loving. When he wasn't running wild, he was clinging to a family member for dear life. There was no in-between. When anyone tried to tame him, he'd flash the puppy dog eyes and climb into your lap for a cuddle. At which point, even the toughest opponent crumbled. He'd exasperate his teachers to no end, but they'd love him. 

Cat had had a clear picture in her head, just waiting to be taken, printed, and framed. Robb, clean-cut and well on his way to functional adulthood, maybe with a nice girlfriend. Sansa basking in the glow of her youth. Arya finding her place. Bran carving a place in the world for himself with that sharp mind of his. And Rickon being his teachers' favorite little terror. 

That picture didn't just go up in flames. It spontaneously-combusted and the ashes were mixed in with cement for a parking lot that was promptly pulverized by a meteor. 

First, Robb went off to university in the south, to the same little school Cat attended in her youth. He wanted to follow in her footsteps and become a teacher. Things were all well and dandy for about a month. Then he joined a political activism group on campus after observing an appalling display in the university commons by a local hate group. Cat could excuse youthful enthusiasm and agreed to what happened next to an extent, but things soon got ridiculous. In the span of a semester, Robb ended up on the local news twice, leading to more than a few phone calls from Hoster from his hospital bed, and on the national news thrice. The penultimate appearance culminating in her son now having an arrest record. It was a long story, but the short of it was that her son was woefully naive, trusted an ancient lobbyist and the CEO of a meat-packaging company to get him an in with a senator, there was a coup within the political activist group, a rally-turned-riot in Wendish Town, and Robb and several friends ended up arrested for instigating the riot, trespassing, and resisting arrest. 

Then Sansa went away to a sleep-away camp down in the Kingswood. Cat and Ned had little idea of the details of those six weeks. None of the adults at the camp seemed to have any clue what had gone on. If they hadn't been apart of it, that is. And Sansa simply refused to speak of it. All they knew is that she had returned home different. Sansa, who used to thrive on the activity, praise, and social interaction that school provided, flinched away from it. Her first year in high school, Sansa dropped all her sports and clubs. She didn't even spend time with her friends after class; she always came straight home and marched up to her bedroom refuge. At conferences, her teachers reported a habit of hers to try and blend into the background, going as far as sitting in the very back of each classroom. Her conversations with other students were reportedly terse and overly polite. Less than genuine. Like all she wanted out of any interaction was survival. Ironically, Sansa turned out to be the asocial goth chick of the family. Over winter break, she dyed her hair brown and started wearing dark, understated clothing. Another bid not to draw attention to herself. She and Jon started getting along better, at least, Ned noted in a fit of optimism. 

Arya was not much better off than her sister, if at all. Arya had gone to sleep-away camp as well. Unlike Sansa, she did not stay. Two weeks in, Arya slipped out of her bunk in the night, climbed the fence around the camp, and trekked four miles to the highway where she promptly hitched a ride with an elderly truck driver that needed a pair of hands and a good set of eyes to read his map to him. She spent much of the summer hitch-hiking her way north while a full-on manhunt was underway to the south. Thankfully, when she heard of Robb's arrest, Arya had the good sense to show up at the very police station where he was being held. Arya returned home as closed-off and skittish as Sansa, but far angrier. Too angry even for sports. Her soccer coach kicked her off the team for being too rough even for the boys who had by then grown to twice Arya's size. And she started lying. Left, right, and center. About anything and everything, for no reason at all. Even her name. Especially her name. Her teachers showed Cat and Ned the names on her spelling tests: Arry, Nan, Weasel, Salty, Beth, Ugly, Horseface, even Cat's own name at one point. 

Bran started smoking weed with the Reeds. It couldn't really get much more unexpected than that for Cat. 

And Rickon? Rickon turned out a whole lot more feral than expected. Maybe it was because they were so distracted by the chaos of Robb, Sansa, and Arya, and then by Bran, but somehow little Rickon got left by the wayside. He started destroying his toys rather than leaving them to collect dust. The video games he so adored to watch and play became more violent and obscene. He found cursing in front of his parents hilarious and encouraged Shaggy to gnaw on his siblings' things. Sansa nearly throttled him, and Arya gave as good as she got and set Nymeria on his things in turn. There was an endless cycle of anger and destruction in the house, instigated most often by Rickon, who was far from the lovable rogue Catelyn expected. Things reached a boiling point when he was expelled from his elementary school and forced to repeat that grade at his new school. 

It was a terrible time in their lives where Ned's nephew Jon was honestly their best child. "The good one."  

Then all of a sudden, the universe righted itself. 

Walder Frey had a stroke, and in the ensuing chaos of his children and grandchildren dividing his estate, it was revealed that Robb and his friends had been framed and absolutely, positively correct about the Freys and Lannisters being certifiably evil. Roose Bolton and his freaky son were then arrested for their ties to Lanniscorp and the Freys. And Robb was allowed back into his university and awarded a sizable sum in reparations for police brutality. He met Roslin, a sweet young lady in spite of her relations that Cat was happy to have at her dinner table come holiday break. 

Sansa went away for her third year of school to stay with Lysa and Robin. After Lysa's unfortunate tumble down the stairs, Sansa somehow convinced Cat and Ned to let her and Robin stay in the Vale with the Royces for the rest of the school year. That summer, Sansa returned home with an entourage. Mya Stone and Randa Royce were to attend Wintertown University that fall. Suddenly, Sansa had friends again. Odd ones. Ones she could even share with Arya to a degree. But friends nonetheless. She took a sudden interest in law enforcement, and often went on ride-alongs with two local officers new to the area. Yet more odd friends, but again, friends nonetheless. 

Arya had too much energy--too many emotions, really--to sit idle for long. Cat and Ned soon marched her down to the local community center to sign up for one of their classes. Arya signed up for three: fencing (she'd been introduced to it during her brief stint in camp), dancing (Cat had no idea, honestly), and theater (Arya had always been a bit dramatic to be honest). And soon Arya was her friendly, out-going self again. A tad more feminine in several ways than Cat expected, but her Arya nonetheless. That was all that mattered. 

Bran proved to a responsible user. It was impossible to police him into stopping completely at least until he was older, as Bran was wily and resourceful, so instead it became a careful balance between parent and child to keep things tame. The hammer was always ready to drop, but Cat had little fear that her son would lose himself to drugs. Before long, he stopped on his own, having apparently found that he wasn't half as interested in the stuff as Jojen.  

They hired Osha to straighten out Rickon. Worked like a charm. 

Yes, things worked out for the Starks in their darkest hour. They'd weathered the harsh winter and now it was spring break. Robb was home, the kids were out of school, the flowers could finally be moved from the greenhouse out into the yard, and the dogs were shedding their winter coats, so the Starks were once again due for a new vacuum cleaner. 

"Kids, dinner!" Cat shouted up the staircase. 

Jon and Robb barreled down, elbowing each other and laughing like they were still middle schoolers. Rickon chased after them and swung himself over the banister in a last ditch effort to beat them. He landed hard on the floor but scurried up and into the dining room in seconds, grinning madly with Shaggy on his heels from the back door. Bran wheeled himself out of the living room, across the foyer, into the dining room. Sansa sauntered down minutes later sporting a WPD cap. A loan from her police mentors. 

"Arya, hurry down!" Cat called. 

"She's not up there." Said Sansa at the foot of the stairs. 

"Where is she then?" Cat demanded, peeved that her daughter hadn't let her knew where she'd be at dinner time. 

As Sansa's lips parted to answer, Rickon bellowed from the dinner table, "Gendry's probably!" 

Cat quickly perused her mental catalog of all her children's friends. "Gendry?" She was drawing a blank. 

"Mya's brother." Sansa replied. "He moved in with her a few months back. He and Arya have been hanging out." 

"More like _making_ out." Rickon teased.

Cat narrowed her eyes at Sansa, demanding answers. Sansa only shrugged. "Mya would say something, I would think."

Cat decided to let the matter drop and joined the rest of her family at the table. Forty minutes later, Arya slipped through the front door and poked her head into the dining room. "Is the casserole cold?" She asked Jon.

"Where have you been?" Asked Ned, mindful of his fatherly duties. Arya stepped fully into the room, still dressed for dance practice, looking prim and innocent, meaning she was the farthest thing from.

"A friend's house."

"Gendry's?" Asked Cat. Arya's widening eyes gave her away. Perhaps they ought to get her a better acting coach. 

"Uh, yeah. How'd ya know? I haven't brought him around." 

"Why not?" Asked Ned, honestly sounding a tad offended. Sansa and Robb had hurt his feelings in the past accusing him of being an embarrassing parent. A former socially awkward wall-flower, that had stung more than a little to hear from his children. Guilt struck Arya like an arrow. 

"He's shy. And the gated community thing can be kind of intimidating." She explained. Cat almost excused everything right there. It was a perfectly likely explanation. But the way Rickon snorted and Sansa's little smile down at her plate warned her to keep her guard up. 

"Is he from school or the community center?" Ned quizzed. 

"Neither." Arya answered reluctantly. "I met him through Mya. He's her brother." 

"Mya?" Ned gaped at Arya. "Mya Stone?" Arya nodded. "He's Robert's boy?" 

With even greater reluctance, Arya nodded her head, and each motion shook Cat's foundations. Because she knew that Arya had turned out a tad different than expected, but she hadn't thought she was _that_ different. Because Arya had never, ever, not once, struck Cat as the type of girl who would go after the type of guy Robert Baratheon's genetics surely spawned. She'd met Joffrey. Even Sansa talked about pushing Joffrey off a bridge in her letters after a month at camp. 

If Arya was truly the type of her girl to go for a son of Robert Baratheon, then Cat surely didn't know her daughter at all up until that moment. (It wouldn't occur to her until later that she didn't know this Gendry boy at all either...) 

Rickon started sing-songing that Arya had a boyfriend. Osha was on vacation visiting her mother, so he was a bit out of hand than had been usual lately. Arya snapped at him to shut his mouth, and when he didn't, she hurled Jon's fork at him. When Sansa let a giggle slip, things went to Hell. No one was safe. 

The evening culminated in the utter shattering of Cat's perception of reality. 

Roslin hadn't just decided to spend the holiday with the less atrocious members of her family. Robb had broken up with her. For a one night stand named Jeyne. 

One of Sansa's police mentors was Jaime "I shot the mayor" Lannister. 

Arya was indeed dating Gendry Waters. Who was older than Sansa.

Bran was indeed still smoking. 

And Rickon had been the one to smash the Umbers' mail box last week. 

Jon was back to being "the Good One." 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you have a happy birthday, Joana! And to anyone else who read, thank you! Please leave kudos and a comment below!
> 
> If you're going to ask about characterizations, though, I'll just leave a brief address to that here.


End file.
